s an admirer of Spenser, and appeared to desire to embody the
spirit of that poet of the ancient chivalry in the scene which he
presented to the view of his illustrious guest when she entered his
grounds. Every one seemed asleep. Groups of cavaliers, armed _cap-a-pie_,
and surrounded by a splendid retinue of squires and pages, were seen
slumbering on the ground; their lances lying by their sides, their shields
hanging on the trees which overshadowed them; their very horses reposing
idly on the grass on which they cared not to browse. All seemed under the
influence of a spell as powerful as that under which Merlin had bound the
pitiless daughter of Arthur; but the moment that Marie Antoinette passed
within the gates the enchantment was dissolved; the pages sprung to their
feet, and brought the easily roused steeds to their awakened masters.
Twenty-five challengers, with scarfs of green, the queen's favorite color,
on snow-white chargers, overthrew an equal number of antagonists; but no
deadly wounds were given. The victory of her champions having been
decided, both parties of combatants mingled as spectators at a play, and
afterward as dancers at a grand ball which was wound up by a display of
fire-works and a superb illumination, of which the principal ornament was
a gorgeous bouquet of flowers, in many-colored fire, lighting up the
inscription "Vive Louis! Vive Marie Antoinette!"

At last, however, the carnival came to an end. Not too soon for the
queen's good, since hunts and long rides by day, and balls kept up till a
late hour by night, had been too much for her strength,[4] so that even
indifferent observers remarked that she looked ill and had grown thin. But
even had Lent not interrupted her amusements, she would have ceased for a
while to regard them, her whole mind being now devoted to preparing for
the reception of her brother, the Emperor Joseph, whose visit, which had
been promised in the previous year, was at last fixed for the month of
April. It was anticipated with anxiety by the Empress and Mercy, as well
as by Marie Antoinette. He was a prince of a peculiar disposition and
habits. Before his accession to the imperial throne, he had been kept,
apparently not greatly against his will, in the background. Nor, while his
father lived, did he give any indications of a desire for power, or of any
capacity for exercising it; but since he had been placed on the throne he
had displayed great activity and energy, th